


why are you still so afraid?

by dorotheaivy



Category: Booksmart (2019)
Genre: Closeted Gay, Emotional, F/F, Fluff, High School AU, Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Lesbian, Questioning, Smut, amy is always shy, anonymous notes, bisexual annabelle, mean girl hope, takes place in junior year, wlw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:48:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25257196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorotheaivy/pseuds/dorotheaivy
Summary: hope is mean to amy...but why is that, she wonders.
Relationships: Amy/Hope (Booksmart)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 32





	1. walk with my head down

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! my first story with amy/hope got a lot of hits and kudos really fast! thank you so much for the support! i always have so many ideas, song inspos, rough drafts and half-assed chapters written down about amy and hope... here’s a product of that. this is like the 3rd time over revised version of what the story was going to be, but i’m satisfied with it, so yeah.
> 
> trigger warning for homophobia, it’ll be all through the story for a while because hope is mean to amy about her sexuality.
> 
> this chapter is purposely short, kind of like an introduction, you could say. the next chapter will be the origin of the note, who wrote it, and hope’s point of view on some things. from there, the rest of the chapters should be like normal length and shit.
> 
> this story is titled after vienna by billy joel (though i listen and refer to ben platt’s cover of it mostly). some story inspiration includes “mean” and “dancing with our hands tied” by taylor swift, and “cold war” by cautious clay... yeah;) iykyk

_ don’t listen to the things they call you, i think you’re brave to be openly gay and you shouldn’t let any fool bring you down anymore _

_ :) _

All Molly could hear was the chaotic sounds of a crowded hallway, full of high school students shuffling to their lockers, their friends, and their classrooms between bells. Her best friend, Amy, was stood next to her at their side-by-side lockers, grasping a crinkled pink sticky note in her hands.

“What is that?” Molly’s attention has quickly shifted to it, resisting the urge to pull it from Amy’s hands and take control herself.

The smaller girl blushed slightly, smiled, and handed the sticky note to Molly - her reaction was the same, but amplified.

“Oh my god -  _Amy_!  This is like, this is huge! It’s like...a whole ass love note!”

Molly was now far too excited, almost making Amy feel way more special than the note would ever entail.

“Wait, really?” Amy pauses, because she of all people wouldn’t know what a love note looked like, and though Molly wouldn’t personally know that experience either, she seemed way more up to date on romance - from watching too much Netflix, respectively - than Amy.

“I mean, yes, of course. All the signs are there.” Molly handed the note back to Amy, opening her locker to grab her singularly dedicated math binder for their upcoming period of pre-calc.

Amy grabbed her binder as well, and so they began walking through the stuffed hallway toward their classroom across the building. “Wh-what signs, exactly? I mean, I think the person was just being nice-“

Molly’s elbow rammed abruptly into Amy’s upper arm in a half-joking manner. “Ames, stop underestimating yourself. You’re too humble for this shit. I mean, that note is a flirt. You just don’t know it, because you don’t know what you’re doing, and that’s okay!” She laughed, looking down at the girl who was seemingly confused.

“Okay, well, I’ll just see if anybody new talks to me. Then, I’d know it was probably them, right?” Amy looked up at the other girl for assurance, because she didn’t actually know how those things really worked. 

“See? You’re getting it.”

They entered the classroom for second period, sitting at their usual front-row desks next to each other. The theater kids, revolving around the huge personality that was George, always sat in a cluster beside Molly’s desk. The other side of the classroom next to Amy was all the “popular” kids, which included the crazy Nick and Tanner duo. 

Sat behind Amy, was the female adaptation of the devil-spawn itself, sheeted in good looks and a reserved personality. Hope.

Amy didn’t know her last name like she knew everyone else’s. She knew nothing about Hope. The only thing that she had certain was that the girl was a homophobic, genuinely mean person who most definitely hid behind her insults like they were a wall.

Amy got called it all - from the elaborate “Gaymy” to the simple “Lesbo”. Upon coming out to her entire fellow class last year during sophomore year, Hope had something to grip on with her ridicule - Amy’s sexuality. She never got why, but the girl made fun of everyone - the theater kids called freaks, the popular kids called whores and spoiled brats. Hope didn’t seem to fit into a certain group. Amy swore she never saw her hanging out with anyone.

But what did she know? She stuck to herself and Molly. Nobody else.

So when she’d feel a harsh tap on her shoulder every day of second period, she knew who it’d be. She would turn around quickly, take the name calling like it was routine, and return to her doings.

Molly would occasionally overhear Hope, and say something super mean back, but it didn’t matter. The girl had a hard shell on her, like you couldn’t find the person underneath. And that was fine - Amy wasn’t interested in getting to know her. The homophobia alone was enough to deter her away for life, because that’s something she hated more than anything. Feminism and advocacy were Amy’s whole world, along with her studies and intelligence and lifelong love for Molly.

One day, she figured she’d pull a whole scene on Hope if she were to get called “Gaymy” a single more time. She could go off about homophobia, how it’s outdated and disgusting. One time, Molly actually pointed out during an argument with Hope that the girl doesn’t actually seem to have a boyfriend.

Molly had a point.. Hope was never seen with a boy before, let alone anyone at all. Molly had jokingly prodded at Hope that maybe she was secretly gay for that exact reason, and while Amy wasn’t totally on that train of belief, she knew her best friend was right. Who was Hope to judge Amy’s sexuality when she herself didn’t present confidence in her own? Nobody knew what Hope was, nobody knew anything about her, it seemed.

All the thinking was making Amy mad, to be honest. She felt fueled for the next time Hope would say something to her.

But today, there was nothing. When the girl took a glance behind her, the desk was empty. No backpack, no jacket hung over the chair like most people would do to save a seat - nothing.

It seemed on brand for Hope to skip class or something, so Amy drew that conclusion as she zoned into the now ringing bell, and the teacher approaching the white board with a new schedule of work for the day.

The note lingered in her mind all class, though.

Somebody was nice enough to say those things to Amy, and she wanted to know who. Through the blatant harassment she’d get for her sexuality, it wouldn’t hurt to bond with someone who actually supported her.

If it was a girl, she found herself already flustered at the thought of it.

If it was a guy, well, she wouldn’t really know how to act, because she’s never around boys very often and doesn’t find herself bonding with them.

In the end, she just had Molly, and her love and support was enough for a whole lifetime. Amy was satisfied.

Now, this note was going to intrude everything for as long as it remained a mystery. Her focus, her social life, her current friendship. But in the end, maybe she should take the signs, like Molly said, after all.

If someone was flirting with her, it wouldn’t be so bad, anyway.


	2. lately, i don’t trust my brain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is also short, but, i just wanted to get these introductory pieces out and then there will be normal length chapters.
> 
> so.. here’s some insight on hope’s life just a bit, amongst other things.. you’ll see!
> 
> enjoy!

The note...was not a flirt.

Hope watched as hands crumpled a pink sticky note into a crushed ball next to her. She picked up the pen and started fiddling with it.

“What’s that?”

The girl looked over. “A note to your fucking victim.”

Hope laughed, but she wasn’t very amused. “Wait, what do you mean-“ She grabbed the girl’s arm as she was getting up, but she pulled away.

“I’m gonna go put it in her locker.” She had a smirk on her face, like she knew it would annoy Hope to the world’s end..

It took Hope just a quick second to realize that “your victim” meant Amy Antsler.

“Annabelle! Fuck, wait up!”

She chased her friend, Annabelle, through the fairly empty courtyard. It was after school, most students had left, and only a few remained to hang out at the picnic tables or skate around. The people within the building were all there for some stupid club, Hope thought.

She followed her shorter friend into the school and down the hallway, where Annabelle had apparently known the number of Amy’s locker. She wedged the ball of a sticky note in one of the cracks of the locker.

“Wouldn’t it just be easier to like, fold it flat and slip it in? You’re- literally so stupid.” Hope caught her breath as she stood next to the locker.

“Oh, gee, thanks for the idea, smartass!” Annabelle gladly took the ball out of it’s crushed state and folded it instead, slipping it seamlessly into the locker. She smirked at Hope.

“Why are you doing this?” her voice was in distress, because she didn’t know why she was getting involved with Amy now. Annabelle didn’t answer her question, but the mischievous look stayed plastered on her face.

“Please, what did you even write?”

“I just.. I told her not to listen to your insults. You know, that kind of thing can lead someone to like, suicide.”

Hope’s expression changed. “Okay, well, I’m not that cruel. I’m not telling her to go jump off a bridge or some shit.”

Annabelle scoffed. “That’s not what I mean.”

The part within the note regarding how Annabelle said Amy was “brave” for being openly gay? Yeah, she didn’t plan on telling any of that part to Hope. She was a closeted bisexual which, she had planned to come out to Hope soon, because she figured once she established that, she’d quit being so homophobic to Amy.

Secretly, she really admired Amy’s bravery from coming out and not caring what people think. Annabelle wished she had that. The boys and the girls already all call her “Triple A”, regarding the “roadside assistance” drama within their class. Really, it was slut shaming in disguise of a “funny joke” or “just a nickname”. But actually, the name was just a whole misunderstanding anyway, because she’d mostly never do things with the guys she brought home - she was just being nice and offering a ride.

Maybe if she came out, she wouldn’t have to deal with that shit from a girl?

She’d never know. Hope was now grabbing her wrist and pulling them around the outside of the building to where the cars were parked.

“Let’s go home.”

They piled themselves into Hope’s car. The note wasn’t spoken of any further after that. 

What most people of their class didn’t know was that Hope and Annabelle were actually cousins. But, because Hope’s mom died when she was young, and her dad had already left prior to that, she lived with her aunt - sharing a room with Annabelle.

They’ve always been close friends, but they kind of stick to their own friend groups sometimes at school, which in Hope’s case, there isn’t any. Annabelle strays off a lot to Tanner, Nick, and that group of boys - Hope didn’t like those guys at all. They were obnoxious, and she didn’t get how Annabelle could complain about her “Triple A” nickname but continue to voluntarily hang out with the people that originated it.

They’d sit together at lunch, around the side of the building. The boys would skate between there and the main courtyard, really just doing anything but actually sitting down and eating. Annabelle would study at lunch while Hope would be consumed in some alternative indie music through her headphones.

It had gone like this every single day. Hope didn’t have a particular interest to make friends. She didn’t want to involve herself with the popular guys Annabelle was with, and she didn’t want to branch out and find somebody new.

So, stuck with Annabelle was all she had to work with.

That was fine. Hope was fine with having herself and one trusted friend. Plus, living together kept them close, even if Annabelle wasn’t constantly around her at school.

She knew she’d come home with her to be chatting about class gossip in their room, making fun of people, or like, guessing peoples body counts. The usual nonsense.

But Hope only made fun of Amy on her own, and only to Amy. She didn’t talk shit about her to Annabelle, because she’d get this weird feeling that maybe she’d stick up for Amy and side with her rather than Hope. And that strange note she’d put in Amy’s locker only solidified that thought.

Maybe Hope was harsh on Amy, but she was like that to everybody. 

It was just another day in Hope’s world.


End file.
